by Francis Ray
Beneath her pink blouse, she rolled tense shoulders. “Yes.”
“Any chance you might meet that good-looking hunk?” Stephanie asked, her speculative gaze meeting Madelyn’s in the oval mirror in front of them.
“I doubt it. We move in different circles.”
Sectioning Madelyn’s hair Stephanie picked up the curling iron, expertly curled the black strands, then replaced the iron in its stand. “Too bad, I’d love to get my hands in his hair.”
The beautician beside Stephanie snorted. “That’s not all you want to get your hands into.”
Stephanie, who was gregarious and easygoing, threw out one slim hip in exaggeration and struck a pose with the rattail black comb in her right hand. “I never said I’d stop there, now did I?”
The women hooted. Madelyn made herself smile. Stephanie had more men friends than she knew what to do with. There wasn’t a doubt in Madelyn’s mind that the other woman knew exactly what to do with Daniel if she got her hands on him.
Refusing to give in to self-pity or cattiness, Madelyn said in all truthfulness, “I’m not sure a man like Daniel Falcon would want to get in your long line.”
Stephanie grinned and leaned down. “I’d let him go to the front.”
“You and half the women in Houston,” said the attractive woman who was sitting in the chair next to Madelyn, getting her hair braided. “A lot of them are rich, society women. Women who work for a paycheck don’t have a chance.”
“You think the brother is a snob?” asked the redhead from across the room.
“Whether he’s a snob or not, how are you going to stand out among all the women trying to get a piece of him?” she asked. “When you’ve been used to the best, why settle for less?”
“Daniel’s not like that,” Madelyn said before she could stop herself.
Twenty-one pairs of eyes converged on her. Including women under the dryer.
Stephanie whirled Madelyn around in the chair so fast she had to clutch the armrests to keep from falling. “Daniel? I thought you didn’t know the dude.”
Madelyn fought the vision of leaving the beauty shop with her hair half done. “I said we move in different circles.”
“So do you know the man or not?” asked the talkative redhead.
“We met briefly in San Antonio,” Madelyn admitted reluctantly, because she knew what was coming next.
“When you were on that weekend trip by yourself? You mean you let a fine-looking, rich man like that get away from you?” Stephanie questioned as if Madelyn had done the unforgivable.
Glancing around the shop, she wasn’t sure she hadn’t. Some of the faces wore surprise that they had met someone who had met Daniel, others were openly appraising. “We just didn’t hit it off.”
The look of sympathy that crossed her beautician’s pretty face was unmistakable. “Probably a snob, like Eula thought. You’re better off without him.”
There was a distinct quietness in the shop before the conversation turned to the day’s soaps. Madelyn stared straight ahead. Now the entire beauty shop knew Daniel Falcon had found her lacking. For a man she had never met until two weeks ago, he had certainly screwed up her life.
* * *
The phone was ringing when Madelyn opened her apartment door. Rushing to pick up the receiver, she answered breathlessly, “Hello.”
“Hi, sis. Caught you coming in, huh?”
Madelyn smiled at the sound of Kane’s voice and perched her hip on the arm of the sofa. “Just walked in from the beauty shop. How’re Victoria and the twins?”
“Fine. I’m a lucky man.” The pride and love in his deep voice was unmistakable.
“So are they. You’re the best.” She tossed her purse and keys on the cushion beside her.
Kane laughed, a rich, booming sound. “As long as you think that, I know some man hasn’t stolen your heart.”
She bit her lip. She wasn’t so sure about that sometimes, but she wasn’t about to discuss her feelings with Kane. He was too perceptive, and Daniel was too close a friend. “I’m too busy for that.”
“At twenty-four you’re also too young and naive. A lot of men out there can’t be trusted. I almost asked Daniel to look out for you when he called.”
“What!” she shouted jumping to her feet. “Tell me you’re only teasing.”
“Calm down,” Kane said. “I know how you value your independence.”
She bit her lip again. “Why did he call?”
“He wanted my input on some names he was given to head a work-study program for the minority youth in Houston.”
Madelyn frowned and slowly sat back down. “I haven’t heard anything about such a program.”
“You won’t,” Kane told her. “He insists on total anonymity so he can pick the men and have full control. He wants the money going to the kids and not to bureaucratic red tape. He was in San Antonio finalizing a similar program. The Dallas/Fort Worth area is next, then Austin.”
Madelyn fleetingly wondered if the boot mold was just a ruse, then another thought struck. “That will cost hundreds of thousands of dollars.”
“I know. He had the same programs in Denver while he was there,” Kane told her. “He feels as strongly as I do about helping to put something back into the community and state that has given him so much.”
“He really isn’t as ruthless as he pretends,” Madelyn said, her voice soft.
Kane snorted. “Until you cross him, then watch out. But he protects his own. I respect him.”
“He thinks highly of you and Matt, too.”
“He’s a good friend to both of us. Well, take care of yourself.”
“I will, and thanks for not telling Daniel to check on me,” she said.
“You’re welcome. Just don’t make me regret it. Bye.”
“I won’t. Bye,” Madelyn said and hung up the phone. So Daniel had a soft side. He called to her on so many levels. Now she had added another one. Growing up she’d always known she’d choose a man like her brothers: tough, aggressive, intelligent, but always aware of those weaker individuals who needed your help.
Picking up her things, she wondered why Daniel wanted her to think he was so ruthless—and more importantly, would she ever see him again to learn the answer.
* * *
Daniel Falcon tried to sit patiently while the long-winded gentleman at the podium extolled the return of the oil and gas industry. It was difficult. Especially when he wanted to get up again and see if he had actually seen Madelyn Taggart in the audience or just imagined her.
It wouldn’t be the first time since he had arrived in Houston three weeks ago. He had almost spoken to one young woman. She had laughed just before he reached out to touch her. Instantly he’d realized his mistake. The laugh was pleasant enough—it just didn’t make his heart beat faster or his blood run hotter.
Madelyn and her laugh had done both. Too well.
He should forget her, but somehow he couldn’t. She had appeared so lost and alone standing in her hotel room doorway in San Antonio. He didn’t regret walking away—he regretted that she didn’t understand why he had to.
Judson Howell, the man at the podium, took a sip of water, shuffled his notes, and was off again. The man seated beside Daniel sighed.
Daniel studied the tip of his Bally loafers, then crossed one leg over the other. While doing so he barely refrained from glancing at the eighteen-karat gold and stainless steel Cartier watch on his wrist.
Now wasn’t the time to appear impatient. Being asked, even at the last minute, to speak at the annual Cambridge Energy Research Associates meeting being held in Houston was a coup. Cambridge was a leading industrial consulting firm, and being on their agenda meant Daniel’s foray into the energy business was being taken seriously.
It had better. He didn’t do anything by halves.
Perhaps that’s why he couldn’t forget how badly things had ended between he and Madelyn. Kissing her hadn’t been wise. The taste of her lips still haunted him.
Sometimes he’d catch himself running his tongue over his lips to see if he could find a trace of her sweetness still there.
Knowing the idea was crazy hadn’t helped him stop. With one erotically charged kiss, she had done more to upset his plans to remain emotionally uninvolved than any woman before her.
The polite smattering of applause alerted Daniel that the gray-haired gentleman had finally wound down. Straightening, Daniel added his own applause, then listened to the moderator introduce him as their “special, unannounced guest.”
Daniel stood while the applause was still being given. Sharp black eyes searched the luncheon crowd of over five hundred with an intensity and concentration that his employees had learned to dread. Fortunately the people in the audience didn’t know that. Unfortunately he didn’t see the one person he had been looking for.
As soon as the applause began to dim down, he began speaking. His strong compelling voice reached to the back of the room as clearly and as easily as if he were speaking to each person directly. Placing one manicured hand on the podium, he spoke to the people as if he had always known them.
A quietness settled around the room as people stopped whispering at the tables, stopped trying to get one more bite of carrot cake, stopped clinking their spoons against the sides of their cups or glasses to stir sweetener into their coffee or tea. Daniel Falcon had them in the palm of his capable hand.
“Worldwide the demand, the need, for oil and gas is growing. We are in a position to meet that need. The profit potentials are staggering. You are to be commended for your faith, courage, and fortitude in standing firm in your belief when others loudly proclaimed the doom of the oil and gas industry. I salute you and welcome the opportunity to work alongside you in the coming years. Energy is back. Thank you.”
The applause was thunderous. Before he could reach his seat, the ten men and women on the stage with him were there to shake his hand.
Daniel accepted their praise and congratulations with true appreciation. Working with friends was infinitely preferable to being in the midst of enemies. With a final handshake to the elderly speaker before him, Daniel headed for his seat. Something made him glance at the audience again.
This time he spotted her immediately. She sat near the back of the large ballroom. Dressed in a champagne-colored double-breasted suit with a portrait collar, she appeared to stiffen, then she glanced away.
His teeth clenched, Daniel continued to his seat. He had paused only a few seconds, but it was enough to tell him there was still something unfinished between them.
* * *
Thankfully the speaker after Daniel was short and to the point. With a fond farewell, the moderator adjourned the meeting and said he hoped to see everyone that night at the Petroleum Ball.
Daniel was out of his chair in an instant. His gaze locked on Madelyn until someone moved into his line of vision. Afterward he never stood a chance of catching her. People crowded around him, wanting to shake his hand, wanting to congratulate him.
With a patience he was far from feeling, he smiled and thanked them. Thirty minutes later when he finally left the raised platform, Madelyn’s table was empty.
He should let it go at that and count it as a narrow escape. What was he going to say to her anyway? He honestly didn’t know. All he knew was that once he saw her, he had to see her again.
* * *
Madelyn was shaking as she stepped into the glittering ballroom that night. The immense room where they had eaten lunch had been transformed. Fifty-foot oil derricks were scattered throughout with the name of the most famous oil and gas strikes in Texas emblazoned on them.
On each side of the long tables laden with everything from succulent roast beef to poached salmon were nine-foot trees glittering with tiny white lights. Round, linen-draped tables, each with a stunning floral centerpiece in cylindrical crystal vases, were in a semicircle, leaving the middle open for dancing, milling around, and the all-important networking.
Walking farther inside, Madelyn searched the crowd for one person: Daniel Falcon.
Seeing Daniel on the podium at lunch had been a complete surprise. She, like everyone in the room, had been entranced by his voice. He was as dynamic as she remembered. When he had stopped on the stage and looked at her, every nerve cell in her body went on full alert.
She had remained at her table a full five minutes after everyone left, hoping he might come over and say hello. She left when it became obvious some of the people in the room were reluctant to let him go.
She had gone home and immediately started looking through her closet for a dress to wear to the Petroleum Ball. Before seeing Daniel, she hadn’t planned on attending. Afterward she couldn’t think of anything else.
All her mental anguish had been forgotten as she pulled a long, black crepe creation from her closet. Daring, sleek and sophisticated, the gown fit lovingly over her breasts, leaving one shoulder completely bare before skimming down to her narrow waist to flare from the knees down.
The other women would probably be wearing sequins and glitter. She’d rely on simplicity to capture Daniel’s interest. She could no longer deny she wanted his attention and much more. The woman in the beauty shop was right … flash and dash wasn’t going to do.
“You wanna dance?”
A man’s voice jerked her around. In front of her was a man in his midtwenties, blatantly staring at her breasts. Besides bad manners, his cologne made her head ache. The jacket of his black tuxedo hung on thin shoulders. “No, thank you.”
“Are you waiting for someone?” he persisted, giving her another once-over.
“Yes,” she answered without a moment’s hesitation.
“If he doesn’t show up, I may still be available.” Snickering at his own humor, he moved farther into the room and asked another woman to dance. He must have received a similar answer because he walked away.
“Madelyn, glad you decided to come after all.”
Glancing around she saw her boss, Howard Sampson. Robust and balding, he smiled down at her. Working with him on a full-time basis was everything Madelyn had thought it would be. Each day he challenged her and accepted nothing less than her best.
She smiled warmly in return. “Hello, Mr. Sampson.”
“This is my wife, Jane,” he said proudly of the matronly woman by his side. “Jane, Madelyn Taggart, the newest member of my team. If she can stand the heat, she might make a darn good production engineer one day,” he offered in a bit of oil humor.
His wife, in understated lavender chiffon, smiled indulgently. “Don’t you let him intimidate you, dear. I’ve known him for sixty years and been married to him for forty-three of those. His bark is worse than his bite.”
Madelyn liked the gray-haired woman instantly. “I’ll try to remember that.”
“Do you have a seat?” asked Jane.
“No, I just arrived.”
“Then come and sit with us … if you don’t think we’d bore you to death,” Mrs. Sampson said with a teasing smile.
Madelyn didn’t hesitate. “I’d love to.”
Later that evening Madelyn couldn’t quite believe she was sitting with some of the top executives at Sinclair. She had seen more than one person from the office send envious looks her way.
One of those was her ex-boss, Robert Carruthers. He was staring so hard he bumped into another gentleman. Madelyn loved it. Sending him a little wave over her shoulder, she straightened in her seat and looked directly into Daniel Falcon’s fathomless black eyes.
Once again she had that breathless feeling. He made a woman consider sitting on her hands to keep from grabbing him.
Dressed in a tailored black tux that fit his tall, muscular body to perfection, he exuded sex appeal. Madelyn didn’t have to look around the table at the women to know each one of them was affected. They all might be happily married, but they weren’t dead.
“I hope I’m not interrupting. I just wanted to say hello to Ms. Taggart,” he said, his voice a rich mixtur
e of velvet and sin.
She felt a ripple of excitement. Maybe, just maybe.
Then she noticed the woman next to him: glittering from the crown of her head with an overdone tiara, a clunky gemstone necklace, and drop earrings to match. Madelyn couldn’t see the woman’s feet, but she was sure her evening shoes were just as sparkling.
Aware of the attention around the table on her, Madelyn forced herself to smile and make the introductions. She finished by saying, “I’m sorry, I don’t know your companion.”
Squeezing Daniel’s arm, the dark-haired woman didn’t wait for him to introduce her. “You must not attend the opera. I’m Natalie Kemp.”
The words were deliberately condescending. “I love the opera,” Madelyn explained. “One of my fondest memories is meeting Katherine Battle after she gave an outstanding performance at the Metropolitan Opera. The acoustics are marvelous. But I’m sure you know that since all the greats have performed there.”
Uncertainty touched the other woman’s face. “Not yet.”
“Then what might I have seen you in?” Madelyn asked pleasantly, too aware of the conversational lull around the table. She’d be nice if it killed her.
Natalie glanced nervously around the table, then at Daniel before answering, “Mercedes in Carmen.”
“Ah, one of the gypsy women,” Madelyn said, clearly astonishing the other woman with her knowledge of one of the minor roles in the opera. “Some of my friends are going tomorrow night. I’ll have to tell them to look for you.”
Natalie flushed.
“Come along, Madelyn, I think I’ve been sitting too long,” Jane said and stood. “I’m not sure how long we’ll be gone, so I’ll say my goodbye to you now, Mr. Falcon, Ms. Kemp.”
“Goodbye, Daniel, Ms. Kemp.” With her hand on Jane’s arm, they moved across the room.
“Don’t worry, Madelyn, real men don’t stay around vicious, catty women,” Jane offered, accepting a flute of champagne from a white-jacketed attendant. “I’d say Ms. Kemp won’t last the night.”
Madelyn’s hand trembled on the long stem. “I don’t suppose it would do me any good to say I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
